


Peter Pan

by 134340inTEARs



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, ages not canon, angsty, homeless
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-12
Packaged: 2019-06-06 05:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15187853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/134340inTEARs/pseuds/134340inTEARs
Summary: Two homeless kids meet.





	1. Beginning

It was about _five years ago_ , year _1983_ , Mike was thirteen years old and had a passion for music. He bought his first guitar with his first gained money he won from a garage selling.  
He watched the musicians play at parking lots, theaters, garages, and even at stages.  
Mike wanted that.  
He loved how happy their faces were singing and playing their instruments to people, who were also happy to hear them.  
He told his mother he wanted to do the same and all she did was look at him and laugh, expecting it was only a joke. And that saddened Mike a lot.

So, at fourteen, his mother found out he was being honest a year ago once she saw his composed songs on the notebook placed at his room’s secretary, and him playing his guitar on a subway while singing some random song. She was so mad at him. He could have e _verything_ he wanted, she told him on the way back home. But he didn’t want just anything he could easily get. He wanted his career to be made out of his hard work. He wanted to be _himself_.

Mike told his mother, once again. And she still didn’t like it, breaking his guitar. He cried for a whole week.  
How could she act so mad just because Mike had, for once in his life, a dream?

Mike acted up. He finally had the courage to stand up and leave his room, taking his saved money and a small backpack with him. His mother looked at him with surprise and asked what he was doing.

“I’m trying to live my future.” He said to her and she laughed madly. No way she would let him do that.

And she warned him, “If you do that, never come back.”

Due to that, Mike was _now_ sat on the grass, in _1988_ , _after everything_ , looking at the sky while playing the guitar he bought _a year ago_.

He used his talent to get money, which wasn’t easy at all. Nowadays people wouldn’t look at homeless that were trying to live their lives.

Mike got his eyes back on the guitar and felt tears on his eyes.  
At first his tears used to be just sadness but now they were also anger.

It was a dark night. No lights were seen in that place. Mike was, once again, in the forest from a hill. He could see the whole town, which wasn’t big from there, sitting on the floor next to a cliff.

Mike was all by himself. He sang some radio song _no one_ heard before. His tears still wanting to fall. He looked at his side and sighed.

He loved music and even if it hurt, leaving home was _probably_ his best decision.

So there he was. With his do-it-yourself bed made out of old and dirty blankets he found on the street.

On the other side, in _1984_ , there was a little boy, who shouldn’t have been born, named Will. Hoping he wouldn’t listen, his father always told his friends he was useless and blamed Will for his mother’s death, with all his mouth saying he was guilty.

Maybe Will was never an easy child to take care of, and he always tried his best to be as quiet and delicate as possible to not bother or upset anyone around him. But they _still_ didn’t like him. He never really understood why.

One day came and his father woke him up saying they were having a family trip.

Will was born with an unnamed disease. He was slow at things. He acted way too quietly, more than he intended to and sometimes he would spit blood. Soon or later he would die and his father never wanted to deal with that. So, with proud, he took Will for a little walk.

He was so happy about it that he couldn’t shut up for one second.  
It was weird seeing a smile on his father’s face.

Until he _actually_ understood.

His father took him out of the car and smiled at him a little too forced making him notice. “Look behind!” He said playfully, pointing to something. Will did that because even though he knew his father didn’t appreciate him, he _trusted_ him with his whole heart. But then he turned around and no one was there.

“Dad?” Will cried out.

After that moment, Will was always so scared. Living on the street, afraid anyone would hurt him, since he was only _twelve_ and was so small.  
He couldn’t trust a single person that tried to talk with him.  
So he shut himself from everyone, even from other homeless people.

 _Until_ a week after.

Will was so tired of walking. He just wanted to sit and rest for a while. Maybe until he fell asleep. But he knew he couldn’t just sleep _anywhere_.

He was climbing a hill, trying to find a warm place, when he heard a voice singing. He loved the sound. So he followed it, finding a boy with a guitar, only backlighted by the moon.

And they met.

 


	2. The Meeting

Mike was paying so much attention to the song escaping from his lips and the sky that he didn’t hear the noises close to him. He only noticed once he saw a shadow, formed by the moon, next to him. He widened his eyes in fear, took out quietly the knife he had on his pocket and waited patiently.

His arm rested slowly as he saw a small boy appear in front of him, coming out of the trees.

“Who are you?” Mike asked trying to get something from him.

Will opened his mouth, closing it in seconds.  
He wouldn’t trust him that easily.

“My name is Mike. Mike Wheeler. What’s yours?” The boy, apparently named Mike, said with a kind smile and Will felt like he could trust him.

“Will Byers.” Will said with a weak but somewhat confident voice. Mike shivered.

Mike asked if the boy was hungry and patted on the floor for Will to sit next to him, so he did as pleased. He gave him a slice of bread when Will nodded fast enough, eating it in seconds. “When was your last meal?” Mike laughed.

“Two days ago.” Will answered the boy, looking at him serious. Mike widened his eyes.

“Wha- Don’t you have a home?”

Will smiled, shocking his head. “They left me.” And remembered everything, feeling a bit sick.

“Oh.” Mike murmured, followed by a sigh. “I feel you.” He took another slice of bread and gave it to Will. He felt it was okay if he didn’t eat much just to feed the small boy. “I’m fourteen. How old are you?”

“Twelve.”

Mike felt so worried.  
Who leaves someone behind _so_ young?  
Mike was young too, but he left with his _own_ feet. Because he knew he wouldn’t be happy where he was. But he felt it was different with Will. He seemed to be too naïve and no one like that would have the mind of wanting to leave home just because.

The two boys were sitting on Mike’s bed, waiting for the tiredness to arrive, both laying down on their backs, looking at the stars that were really few that night.  
Before falling asleep, Will looked at Mike’s guitar, which he bought after leaving his home, and sighed quietly. He wanted Mike to play for him. He smiled at his mind playing the sound he heard when he found him.

Will sighed again. 3 hours passed by and the boy was still awake. He hated having insomnias.  
The boy coughed blood into his hand. He was used to that but hoped Mike would never see this side of him, a sick side he hated but couldn’t control. It was like that was part of him. He was born that way.

The following night, Will, still with insomnias, gained courage and placed a hand on Mike’s shoulder, trying to wake him up, even though his hand was a bit shaky due to nervousness. No force was needed because the older was still awake.

“Do you need anything, Will?” Even if he was tired, he still managed to make Will shiver beside him. Mike turned around to face the boy.

“Could you play for me?” Will pointed to the guitar and Mike really asked if he really needed it now.

But still, he held his guitar and positioned himself on the bed, smiling at the boy in front of him with really tired eyes. He started off with a new melody that made both smile. Will was paying attention to the sound that came from Mike’s mouth. It wasn’t perfect but Will felt so calm.

They kept like that for hours, until Will felt too tired, falling asleep on Mike’s shoulder.  
Mike laughed and kissed his hair.

They kept like that for over _two years_.

Will loved Mike playing guitar, and his voice too. So, every night, Mike, knowing of Will’s insomnias and the trouble of falling asleep, would play lullabies to calm him down.


	3. Happenings

It was year _1986._

There was one time, Mike told Will he found a Quarry close to the place they were sleeping. It was calm and nice. The water seemed clean. At least it was a pale blue shade. So he had the idea of both taking a bath there. Will accepted, with a smile on his face.

That day, both ran to the place, only stopping when they were looking from a cliff.

“Do you want to jump?” Mike looked with curiosity at Will, who was looking down, almost falling. The boy looked at him in fear.

“Jump? Are you crazy?” It made Mike laugh and Will only stared at him. “Okay.” He said.

So they jumped. Giving hands and trembling out of fear. Looking into each other’s eyes. Only on their underwear.

They laughed as they came back to the top of the water, splashing one another.  
They finally washed up, helping each other with their backs and hair.

Mike swore be never felt _this_ happy for a long time. He was so glad Will decided to climb the hill that night and stick with him.

We were at the right place, in the right time. Mike thought.

Once it was late, they left the water, waiting for the sunset to dry them. While that, they decided to play a game, chosen by Will.

Will was hidden behind a tree. The boys were playing hide and seek but Mike couldn’t find the boy due to his small figure, ending on Will always winning the game and making fun of the other boy.

He finally found Will when he saw him, back turned, coughing violently. He wanted to scare him but stopped when he saw his bloody hand.

Will was coughing blood. And that scared Mike.  
He decided to ignore it because Will didn’t touch the matter so he thought it wouldn’t be that important. Because if Will didn’t say anything, then worries weren’t needed.   
Or maybe because Mike didn’t want to believe Will was getting sick.

And due to that, those _two years_ weren’t so great. Never so perfect.

“Tag, you’re it!” Mike would scream whenever they felt too bored and decided to play Tag.  
And Will would always lose because his legs were too small to run faster than Mike.  
Those were small times when each one only thought about having fun. When they only cared about seeing each other happy.

Sometimes, to gain money, they would sing and play the guitar on the subways. Will joined Mike’s voice. They were the great duet everyone envied.

There were times they ran out of food. And the money they made on the street wasn’t enough to buy anything.  So they needed to steal sometimes. Never being found and always escaping in time. Mike and Will would laugh their asses off and run as if nothing could stop them.

Both loved every moment they spent together.

For those years, Will never felt so alive and so loved. He was another person. A new Will. He finally had found his family. His another.

Both only needed each other. They were happy, even though they were homeless.   



	4. Giving Up

Sadly, _one more year_ passed by and Mike really thought everything was so fine.

Until Will had woken up one night, feeling dizzy. He needed to throw up so he stood up and found the first thing that came into his eyes, behind a tree, he took out all he needed, which was nothing but blood.

Unluckily, Mike heard him and headed to him. That’s where he saw that nothing was okay.

“Will?” Mike looked at the boy in shock. Will’s eyes were teary.

“Mike, please go away.” Will cried out, noticing his plan of hiding everything from Mike had failed. He knew what was happening. He just wanted to live the time he had left happily with him.

“No!” He shouted and placed a hand on Will’s back, rubbing it. He reassured the boy everything was okay. “You need to go to the hospital.”

“I don’t want to.” Will was now facing him. Not wanting to throw up anymore. “Please.”

Mike only looked at him and stood there, watching Will leave him behind, going to the bed both shared for _three years_.

The morning came by, Mike woke up and stared at him.

“Yes?” Will opened one eye and stared at Mike.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong? Did you hide this from me all this time?”

Will sat with crossed legs. His eyes were glassy.

“Mike, I have a disease.” Mike sighed.

“I noticed.”

Will rolled his eyes. “I never found its name but basically it doesn’t allow me to grow more than my 18’s. It slows me and makes me weak. And then I die.” How could someone say something like that so easily?

A soft and nice breeze touched their skin. Mike felt like crying.

“So, are you Peter Pan?” He laughed, trying to ease his pain.

“You can call that. Peter Pan disease.” Will smiled.

“Please, let me take you to the hospital.” Will’s smile faded and he looked down. “Please don’t give up just yet. Try it. Please.”

“Mike.” Will called for him. “Let’s do this. When I start to feel really sick, I’ll go, okay? But please, spend this time with me.” These words echoed on Mike’s head.

In fact, Will just didn’t want to go. He had given up years ago. He knew nothing would work to make him feel better.

He finally took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s appreciate it then.” Mike smiled at him. “What do you want to do?”

“Remember where we met?”

“Of course I remember.” Mike looked surprised. “What about it?”

“I want to go there.” Will stood up and Mike nodded, smiling.

They packed up the morning after and started moving, it would be a long ride because during these _three years_ , they moved a lot.

They went to the subway to try and make more money to buy two train tickets. Succeeding.

After some hours, they were at the station, buying the tickets and laughing about something both shared. They _used_ to have their little talks and inside jokes.

“Next train coming at 05:24 p.m. Destiny, Hawkins, Indiana.” The radio of the station said and both looked at each other in silence.

In three hours they would be back at their birth town.

“We’re almost there.” Mike said making Will wake up from his thoughts.

He was lost in Mike. He didn’t want to lose him.

“Yeah.” Will only said, making a silence noise next.

Finally, the train came and they entered, accommodating themselves on the chairs. It would be a long ride.


	5. Eulogy

Mike and Will were there, in Hawkins. In the forest they first met. It was also a dark night.

“What do you want to do?” Mike released Will’s hand from his and looked at him.

Will shrugged and Mike sighed, looking at the place.

“We can make the bed and then sit there.” He pointed at the place both sat for the first time and Will smiled afterwards.

After everything was prepared, the two sat there, looking at the town. It looked so small.

Mike decided to play a song and his head was telling him to sing.

“I know that song.” Will said calm and smiley.

“Yeah?” Mike looked at the boy, still singing.

“You sang that to me when we met.” Will rested his head on Mike’s shoulder and both appreciated the view.

A couple of hours passed by and it was getting cold.

“Let’s go to bed.” Mike said, almost taking Will in his arms because the boy was too sleepy.

Both were now laying down, looking at each other’s eyes fondly. Mike’s arm was placed on Will’s waist, pulling him closer. The older kissed the other’s forehead with his eyes shut.

“Thank you Mike,” Mike didn’t understand why. But Will knew what he meant by saying that, sighing next. “For everything.” And then they fell asleep.

-

Mike woke up to a weird noise and looked at his side. Will was coughing violently, laying down, with all the blood coming from his mouth to the sides. Mike was worried sick. He didn’t know what to do.

He got a lot worse.

“Will!” Mike placed one hand on the back of Will’s head and the other on his shoulder and sat the boy.

“M-Mike.” His voice was weak. Will almost couldn’t talk. Mike looked deeply and knew the boy was about to faint.

“Fuck.” He said and stood up, lifting the boy on his arms, going bride style down the hill.

Mike looked everywhere as he was on the street, hoping someone would see and help, but it was still a bit dark so no one was there at that hour.  
He was so desperate.

Mike finally found an opened hospital and entered, looking at Will who was passed out.

Shit. He thought.

“Someone help me!” A nurse looked and ran to him.

“What is wrong?”

“I don’t know! He passed out and he has a disease.” Mike talked fast. The nurse took the boy away from his arms and placed him on a hospital bed.

“What kind of disease?”

“I-I don’t know.” He answered with a weak voice. He was about to cry. The nurse left with the boy and Mike kept standing there, in the middle of the room.

Mike was so madly desperate. Tears were now aggressively falling from his eyes.

Please, don’t leave me. He thought.

He swallowed his pain and sat on a green chair from the waiting room with orange walls and waited for him. People were looking at him with a disgusted expression, but he didn’t care.

The boy remembered he had a notebook in his pocket and took it out.  
His hands started to write some lyric his mind was creating alone.

_Peter pan boy,_

He started off and smiled, forgetting about his urge to cry.   
Will was _his_ peter pan. Small, naïve, incapable of growing more, running through the woods. He was more than just a ‘peter pan disease’ as they called it.

_I was alone in the dark night,_

_A couple years ago._

“Hey, little boy?”

_You seemed desperate_

_As you called for me._

_And I adored you right away._

Mike looked up and saw the nurse standing in front of him.

“We took a look at him and he’s in serious bad condition. He needs to be operated. But the surgery will cost you.” Mike thought carefully, reminding himself he still had some money left.

He took all the money out and showed her.  
And the nurse only gave him a judgmental look.

“This won’t do it, kid.” She tried to say as careful as she could.

Mike felt hopeless. He wanted to save him.

_I gave you a piece of me,_

_You gave me a piece of you,_

_But why are you leaving?_

So he looked at his side and saw the guitar he took with him when Will was passing out. He knew it would be needed.

“I’ll be here in minutes, please take care of him.” He said and left the hospital with the guitar on his hands. Feeling a bit hopeful.

Luckily, Mike found a guitar shop next to the hospital, as if it was on purpose.

He entered the old place with fear.  
Mike was about to let go all of his past for Will.

He asked the store owner how much it would cost and Mike smiled at the price.  
It would be so worthy. He knew that.

30 minutes after, Mike was back again at the hospital and called the nurse. When she came, he gave her half of the money and she smiled, giving him the papers to fill.

_Peter pan boy,_

_You’re more than that._

_So small and naïve,_

_You make my heart race at the thought of you._

He sat on the chair again, eventually falling asleep.

Hours passed by, Mike rubbed his eyes as he woke up, looking at the sides, expecting someone to be there to say anything, but still nothing.

He sighed in desperation.

“Michael, right?” Mike stared as fast as he could to where he heard his name. The same nurse from before, was standing in front of him with a saddened face.

And that’s when it hit Mike.

_I played you lullabies,_

_For your dreams to be just like you._

The boy cried out, feeling the pain on his chest. He ran to Will’s room to see him one last time, and he looked so different. He wasn’t _his_ Will.

His face was more pale than usual and his eyes, that he adored, were shut.

_You cared for me, as much as I did_

_For you._

He sat slowly on the chair next to the bed and kept looking at the dead body.  
He had waited for such a long time, to in the end, see him like this.

That boy appeared and changed all of his thoughts. He still had the same dream, but Will was in it. All of his passions changed. He just wanted to be with him. But he couldn’t anymore.

Mike took out his notebook to keep writing what he was trying to write hours ago. Tears still coming out of his eyes in a violent pace.

“You need to go. You can’t be here anymore.” The nurse said after giving him time. He nodded and cried more, looking _one last time_ at him.

_My peter pan boy,_

_I told you,_

_I’ll care for you, I’ll hold you and love you._

_But you still left anyway._


	6. Final

It’s year _1988_ and Mike, with his _eighteen’s_ , is _now_ sitting on the grass that grew in the summer.   
He’s looking at the sky, smiling.  
Having the guitar he bought _a year ago_ , on his lap.  
He succeeded.

Now a lot of people know him for his talent. He also has his own house.

“Are you proud?” He asked out loud, letting a little tear fall from his eye, still smiling.

He looked down at the landscape. He could see the whole town, Hawkins, from there. He was at the forest of a hill from _four years ago_.

Mike is now all by himself. He started to sing some radio song that _only one_ person heard before. The song he sang for him, in the first night they met, right where he is now.

He looks at the side and sighs, remembering _he_ used to sit there, bothering with questions and other things.

Today was March 22, and Will would be sixteen years old.

He positions himself and plays a melody on his guitar, smiling.

_Let me tell you a secret,_

_Peter pan, you_

_Meeting you was_

_The best thing that has ever happened._

_And wanting to stick with you,_

_Was the best decision I’ve ever made._

_So, thank you, Peter pan._

_Even though you left,_

_My heart still belongs to you,_

_And yours still belong to me._

He sang.

“I finished it after your funeral. Happy birthday, Will.”

He smiles, stands up and says goodbye to the place he lived in almost a year, not turning his back even for one second.

“Thank you Will, for everything.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s over! While I was writing this story, I had in mind that Mike was in love with Will, and Will saw Mike as an older brother the whole time. Mike never had the chance to tell him.
> 
> Ps. The written song was made by me.  
> Thank you for reading, hope you enjoyed. TEAR.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! TEAR.


End file.
